Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Botswana and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Traffic Nightmare to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra. All the underground hits.
All Camouflage tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Howard Jones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gap Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
This Heat,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Audionom,
Jeru the Damaja,
Little Man,
The American Breed,
Stiv Bators,
Yellowson,
The Monks,
Sparks,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Barracudas,
Brick,
Basic Channel,
CMW,
Kerrie Biddell,
Skaos,
Radiohead,
AZ,
Index,
Tubeway Army,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Lou Christie,
Bad Manners,
cv313,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Aswad,
the Swans,
Echospace,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Cameo,
Minutemen,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Flesh Eaters,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Sister Nancy,
Don Cherry,
The Moody Blues,
Neil Young,
Leonard Cohen,
Jerry's Kids,
Davy DMX,
Ralphi Rosario,
Lou Reed,
The Gories,
The Raincoats,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Magazine,
Nas,
Sight & Sound,
Eurythmics,
Sex Pistols,
Infiniti,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Dual Sessions,
The Move, The Move, The Move, The Move.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.